Rosemont
by cloudymagnolia
Summary: AU. When Hakkai's cousin, Sanzo, moves in with Hakkai and Gojyo, things get wierd fast. Especially when Sanzo is ordered to bring in a strange boy with apparently no record and no past for his shady government job...
1. Relationships and Boundary Lines

Disclaimer: I don't own Saiyuki. There's a shocker.

Pairings: Hm. Maybe I won't announce them just yet... it will probably become glaringly obvious soon, though.

Rating: Somewhere between PG and PG-13

Warnings: Shounen-ai. Since this is Saiyuki, I'll get mad if you flame me on that account. Language, but I work around it pretty well... that's all I can think of. It's been forever since I've written one of these, though, so I'm sure I've forgotten _something_. I apologize for any OOC-ness. Hopefully it shallbe cleared up soon.

_And so..._ On with the fic!

Installment One

In Which Relationships are Established and Boundary Lines are Drawn

OR

Why is it So Much Easier to Develop a Plot When You're Using Preset Characters?

A/N: Before we begin: I'm fickle with story lines and writing styles. If each installment is drastically different from the last, well… eventually I'll come full circle. Also, I came up with this plot in about three minutes. I might scrap it halfway through or do something REALLY WEIRD to get it back on track. Also, I will write obscenities with the vowels omitted. Example: dmn, sht, etc.

"Absolutely not." Hakkai's eyes, normally luke-warm at the least turned steely, hard, and cold.

"What was that?"

"I said absolutely fckng not!" Gojyo said, raising his voice just a tad.

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice, Gojyo. You know we're only living here at his discretion anyway-"

"Like I care! I'm not letting him through the fckng door!"

"Gojyo," Hakkai said quietly, trying hard to reign in his temper, the letter he held in his left hand getting crumpled in his grip, "My cousin Sanzo is coming to live here. And that is final."

Needless to say it was a very disgruntled Gojyo who was finally persuaded to drive to the airport, grumbling under his breath the entire way, even with numerous shushings from Hakkai. He finally pulled the beat-up jeep up to the gate and glared around discontentedly.

"So, where is the bstrd?" he wondered out loud. "He has the presumption to make us come pick him up he might as well be on time." Hakkai raised an eyebrow.

"Gojyo, you realize it's _his house_, right?"

"Yeah, well… yeah," Gojyo muttered rebelliously, having thought of no witty comeback.

"Oh, there he is," Hakkai muttered, glancing out the window. Unthinkingly, Gojyo followed his gaze.

Purple eyes. That was the first thing anyone noticed, their depth and their expression as much as the color. The next thing was the face. It bore a stoic expression right now, but one could imagine it slipping easily into a smirk and a sneer, but not much else. Everything else came later. Blonde hair, slender frame, typical girl magnet. There appeared to be several people in the airport eyeing him already.

Gojyo turned away and snorted, apparently in distaste. Hakkai smiled, and murmured quietly,

"Jealous, Gojyo?" earning him a dirty look. Hakkai's grin grew wider. He passed his hand seemingly unthinkingly over Gojyo's shoulder as he hopped out to meat his cousin.

"You're looking well, Sanzo."

"You too." Sanzo noticed Gojyo glaring at him through the passenger-side window.

"Who the hll is he?" he asked.

"Room mate," Hakkai murmured, opening the trunk so Sanzo could dump his luggage in the back. Sanzo simply nodded and swung himself easily into the back seat as Hakkai slid into the front one.

"Do make yourself comfortable," Gojyo muttered sarcastically when he saw Sanzo stretching out languidly, taking up almost the entire back seat. Sanzo didn't even twitch, which, of course, just made Gojyo even more irritated. Meanwhile, Hakkai's foot crashed onto Gojyo's, forcing him to bite back a yelp.

"What the hll was that for?"

"What was what for?" Hakkai said, his entire manner dripping innocence. From the back, Gojyo heard a snort of laughter. Gnashing his teeth and muttering angrily to himself Gojyo expertly guided the jeep through the forest of cars, trucks, and SUV's.

"So, you never did tell me what brings you to this neck of the woods, Sanzo," Hakkai called behind him a few moments later, still trying hard to avoid a major confrontation. At least for another few hours.

"Business," was the monosyllabic response. Hakkai laughed.

"It's hard to imagine you working," he grinned, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Tell me about it," Gojyo whispered. Hakkai's foot mysteriously crashed into Gojyo's again. He let out a strange muffled squeak, but this time had the sense not to call Hakkai on it.

"I found something that appealed to me," Sanzo said, rolling his eyes in Gojyo's general direction, causing him to seethe quietly.

"It's hard to imagine you wanting to do anything besides waving a gun around and swearing," Hakkai said with a laugh. Through the rear-view mirror Gojyo saw Sanzo's mouth twitch. It took him a moment to realize that it was a quickly-suppressed smile.

"That's basically it," Sanzo replied, and when his smile finally came back all the humor had carefully been reorganized out of existence. "I'm with the Rosemont Squad now."

Gojyo nearly choked on the cigarette he had just lighted. "No fckng way!" he choked out between coughs. "_You're_ with Rosemont?"

"I've never heard of it," Hakkai commented. "Gojyo, what is it?" Gojyo laughed.

"That depends what day of the week it is," he said, shaking his head to himself. "First they were a sort of detective group, but they kept on killing the perps before they could get them to court, then they became a kind of SWAT team, but they would 'accidentally' blow up the innocents as well. Then they became drug dealers, but some of their own boys got into the stuff, and then they became smugglers, but the government kept shutting them down. Now the government just gives them the dead-end work that no one else wants and pays them a pretty penny to keep them outta their hair. So, what did they send you here on? Recruitment?" Gojyo asked, showing some non-hostile interest in their house-guest for the first time.

Sanzo lit a cigarette unconcernedly and threw the match out the window. "How the hll should I know?" he growled after taking a long drag. Hakkai looked questioningly at Gojyo for an explanation of the odd answer. Gojyo lowered his voice just a bit before answering,

"I hear the head of the Squad is a bit of a nut-job. He's obsessed with secrecy and completely paranoid. I heard that lots of times the corps don't even know what they were supposed to be doing until after it's over."

"So you're saying they're basically national governmentally funded terrorists," Hakkai said. Sanzo snorted from the back seat.

"Yeah, that just about sums it up," Gojyo grinned as he pulled into the townhouse garage. The townhouse was a large, airy, wooden building with three levels. Every family lived on a different level. On the first floor were the Collins's; Martha, Jody, Stephan, and Casper. They were the traditional 'perfect' household, seeming to live off patriotism. Martha, the mother, was always perfectly done up and if she didn't have a piece of laundry or a sewing needle in her hand she would have an oven mitt. Stephan was the manager of a business, and, being the lowest paid and most dispensable, was far prouder of his position then he should be. Casper was a senior in high-school and played football, Jody was first-chair clarinet of the junior high band. The whole family tended to leave normal people with a bad taste in their mouth. On the third floor lived a young bachelor who tended to go through dates like water. He and Gojyo had gotten along rather well before a small dispute over a card game had elevated their status from 'common acquaintances' to 'enemies for life'.

"So what do you do now?" Sanzo asked Hakkai, surprising Gojyo by making an effort to keep the conversation going. "Baby-sit?" Hakkai laughed.

"Pretty close. I teach over at the school for under-privileged children."

"Aw, Hakkai, that's not fair," Gojyo teased, "You know that there are some _rich_ delinquents too. It's a reform school," he explained to Sanzo, pleased to know something that the other didn't. Hakkai unlocked the second-floor door and pushed it wide.

"Sorry about the mess," Hakkai apologized as he stepped into the front room. Gojyo could practically hear Sanzo's eyes grow wide.

The mess Hakkai seemed to be referring to was the two specks of dust on the spotless coffee table, which were promptly wiped away. The room, and Sanzo expected the entire house, was spotless.

"I thought that you were bad when you lived with Kanaan," was all that Sanzo said upon entering the room. Hakkai laughed.

"No, this is the only room like this. Gojyo makes sure that I don't over-clean any of the other rooms." Sanzo deposited his luggage in the guest-room, then came back to enquire,

"So were you ever actually diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive?"

"I never found time to make an appointment with the psychiatrist," Hakkai said tranquilly. Sanzo shook his head in disbelief and returned to his room to unpack.

Run. Hide. Sleep. Run. Hide. Sleep. Run… the mantra repeated over and over again in Son Goku's mind. Occasionally it occurred to him that he hadn't eaten anything in several years, hadn't had a sip of water in several months. Occasionally it occurred to him that he should've been dead. However, in the years since the incident he had managed to push the guilt, along with almost everything else, to the back of his mind. It was rare now that he thought about anything except the mantra that repeated over and over in his brain. When he did think on something else, it was generally the incident, but even that memory was growing fuzzy and dark with time. He at first had thought that he would never be able to forget it, but now he almost couldn't remember what he thought he wouldn't have been able to forget. His mother, his father, a stranger, everything ran together in his mind. The only thing he could remember clearly anymore was a dark cage built into the face of the mountain, and sometimes that felt the most imaginary of all.

Yup! That's all!

So, yeah... thanks for reading. . Reviews are nummy. Flame if you must.


	2. The Assignment

For warnings, disclaimers, etc., look on first chapter.

Installment Two

In Which Sanzo Reflects on What Does and Doesn't Exist

OR

The Author Has No Idea What She Is Writing and is Too Lazy to Look it Up

"Letter," Hakkai mumbled, tossing Sanzo a thin envelope over the breakfast table. Sanzo emitted something vaguely like a grunt. Gojyo had yet to work up the energy to make his way from the table to the cabinet to get a bowl of cereal.

Needless to say it was very early in the morning. The sun was only just beginning to make its way above the treetops, and below the treetops almost everyone was wondering why it didn't have the good grace to stay down for another several hours.

"So, what does the letter say?" Hakkai finally asked after his third cup of coffee, finally feeling more or less alive.

"What? Oh, haven't opened it yet," Sanzo muttered, stifling a yawn and reaching for the envelope. Unfortunately for him, it took him five cups of coffee and at least an hour to wake up. Some people just aren't made for the morning. Sanzo quickly scanned it, and then set it carelessly aside. "Get my new assignment," he muttered, standing, heading for his room to shower and change.

"What is it?" Hakkai asked a short time later, lazily flipping channels between the two news stations that were actually functioning this early.

"Huh?" Sanzo asked, the first semi-coherent statement he had made all morning.

"I asked what your new assignment was," Hakkai said, still not looking up from the television.

"Oh," Sanzo muttered, comprehending. "I haven't gotten it yet." At Hakkai's questioning glance he continued, "All orders are given out in person so as not to leave a paper trail. This just gives me the directions to the place, and even those are in code." Hakkai laughed humorlessly.

"Paranoid much?" he asked. Sanzo rolled his eyes in irritation.

"Tell me about it."

Sanzo had been living with them at the townhouse for almost two weeks now. It didn't seem like that would be a lot of time to adjust, but all three had fallen into the new schedule with an almost frightening familiarity.

"Hey, Hakkai," Gojyo said, wandering into the room after his shower. "I didn't know you had the day off today." Hakkai glanced at the clock.

"I don't. I still have a few minutes before I have to leave, though."

"Hakkai?" Gojyo asked. Hakkai looked up, a questioning look on his face. "That clock stopped three days ago. Remember you were telling me to bring it to the shop sometime?" Hakkai's face stayed blank for a moment longer before a look of dawning comprehension and horror came over it.

"I have a first period class," he muttered, and his face had 'dead meat' written all over it. He glanced down at his watch. "I might still have time to catch the later subway if I hurry," he muttered, standing. Gojyo put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him back.

"Hurry schmurry, there's no way you could make that subway in three minutes. Come on, I'll drive you." Gojyo got up and grabbed his keys.

"A-are you sure?" Hakkai asked. "It's pretty far…" he murmured uncertainly, looking worriedly out the window.

"Just come on," Gojyo growled, already at the door. "Or you'll be even later." Hakkai hesitated for just a moment longer before grabbing his briefcase and following Gojyo out. The door slammed. A moment later Sanzo heard the jeep pull out of the garage.

Sanzo allowed himself an irate smile and raked a hand through his hair.

"He _so_ needs someone to take care of him," he muttered, lighting a cigarette. Sanzo occupied himself by chain smoking for awhile, but at about ten o'clock, as that grew old, he decided he might as well track down the building he was supposed to find.

About simultaneously he realized that Gojyo had taken the car and occupied the next few moments muttering every insult he could at him. His brain eventually fell into automatic and he continued the muttering even as he wondered how he was to get to the building.

Sanzo had gotten down to 'pea-brained, perverted kappa' and was vaguely wondering where that had come from when he finally decided that the best course of action would be to walk. So, not necessarily in the best of moods, Sanzo set out on foot.

Luckily the building was fairly close, well under five miles, and after only an hour of walking (and swearing at the unintelligible directions) he found himself in front of the beat-up door. Sanzo sighed and rolled his eyes, wishing, not for the first time, that the Rosemont Squad could use some of their government funding for something useful, such as modern buildings.

Rolling his eyes, Sanzo opened the door and entered one of the barest, saddest little rooms that has ever graced the face of the earth. It was hardly bigger then a closet, no more then ten by ten, or ten by fifteen feet at a stretch. It's only furnishings were a makeshift desk constructed out of two filing cabinets and a piece of plywood, several more filing cabinets behind the desk as well as a folding chair, sitting parallel to another folding chair before the desk.

Sanzo quickly stepped into the room and shut the door as silently as he could, the murky darkness created by the lack of windows making him edgy.

A sudden movement at the far side of the room caught his attention; his pistol was up and ready in a flash.

"Whoa, hey! Sanzo, don't shoot!" The figure clicked on the lone hanging lamp, throwing the bare room into some kind of relief. Sanzo kept his gun up just a moment longer, until he had the figure identified. Then he dropped his hand, in shock as much as anything else.

"_Clarence?_" He asked incredulously. "I thought they said you were _dead_." He was silent for a moment. "You look good." (A/N: This is only funny if you say it out loud, with just the right inflection. I stole it from MIB II to give you an idea of how it's supposed to sound) Clarence tilted his head back and let out a bark of laughter.

"Thanks. You do too. Anyway, your assignment." Clarence took the seat behind the desk and motioned Sanzo to sit at the seat in front of it. He opened one of the file cabinets and began leafing through it, a disgusted look on his face. Sanzo broke the silence by asking,

"How long have you been holed up in this place?"

"Not too long," Clarence grunted back, his head not out of the cabinet. "They change the assignment room ever few weeks. Talk about paranoid, ya' know? The one before this was pretty nice, though. It was in a big office building. Coffee room right next door."

"So they just up and transferred you?" Sanzo asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Same thing happened to you," Clarence pointed out. "Doesn't sound like you had much say in the matter, either."

"I'm still on field work," Sanzo shot back. "It's different. People probably aren't going to be wondering whether I'm dead or not. More than usual, I mean." Clarence allowed himself a smile before continuing his rummaging. A common Rosemont greeting was, 'So you're not dead yet?'

"Where did I put that dmn piece of sht?" Clarence complained after flipping through the entire filing cabinet for a second time. "I swear to god, this job is going to make me run mad. Paper-shuffling," he muttered in contempt.

"Did you set it out?" Sanzo asked, unconcernedly lighting a cigarette, making no move to help his colleague out and point out where the file sat in plain sight on the desk.

"Naw, I don't think so," he muttered, scanning the room quickly. There were so few furnishings that it took him less then a second. "I suppose I should check the cabinet one last time…" at that exact moment he noticed the file sitting on his desk and trailed off, flushing in embarrassment. Salvaging what little pride he could he calmly handed the file to Sanzo.

Sanzo opened the file, wondering at its thinness. Inside was a picture of a young boy and what looked to be several pages torn out of a diary, all in the same neat hand. The final page caught his eye. It was on different paper and in different handwriting, and also appeared more recent.

"This it?" Sanzo asked, staring at the paltry bundle in front of him, one eyebrow raised. "What am I even supposed to be doing?"

"Find the kid," Clarence answered, setting up his feet and lighting up a cigarette of his own.

"Okay," Sanzo said. "Where does he live?" Clarence snorted with laughter.

"When are things ever that simple? That picture is from about ten years ago. The kid disappeared around that time. The pages are from the mom's diary, before he disappeared. We did the best we could on tracking, but the most we found recently on him was that last page, torn out of a little girl's diary. Even then it's a very long stretch, as it only describes the kid, and for all we know there could be more then one dirty orphan with 'long, chocolate brown hair,' to use her own words." Sanzo was staring at the file in front of him, his stoic mask not able to block out all of the confusion he was feeling.

Most of the assignments you got with Rosemont were fairly straight forward, consisting mainly of 'kill this person at this time and at this place using this weapon and using this escape car'. Sanzo had never even _heard _of Rosemont getting a missing person report, even one as elusive as this.

"What does the gov' want _us_ to do with a missing person report?" he finally asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. Clarence gave him a quick glance, then leaned forward, as if about to divulge some great secret.

"Now technically," he began, killing his cigarette in the ash tray, "Technically, I'm not supposed to know this. But I heard that the real deal doesn't have a thing to do with the kid." Sanzo raised an eyebrow, an incredulous look on his face. Clarence waved his arm impatiently. "Well, I mean of course it does as far as you having to bring the kid in! What I mean is the kid's not really what they're after."

"So what are they after?" Sanzo asked, not beating around the bush.

"Ever heard of the Seiten Taisei?" He asked, leaning forward still further. Sanzo snorted in disbelief.

"You're shttn' me," he said. "Everyone knows that's just a myth."

"It sounds crazy, I know," Clarence murmured, lowering his voice, trying to compel Sanzo to lean in closer. Sanzo didn't take the bait, so Clarence was forced to speak at a normal volume again. "I heard some of the big dogs talking about it earlier this week. They were saying that more and more of those unexplained crimes are starting to be blamed on it. I heard that it's supposed to make the government's top ten most wanted list sometime in February." Sanzo stared at Clarence for a moment before standing up and heading toward the door. When his hand was on the door knob he turned back to face him.

"You don't really believe this sht, do you?" he asked. Clarence shook his head and was silent a moment before answering.

"Man, I don't know what to think," he finally said. "Some of those crimes are just so out there, you know? I mean, what type of human would hang someone from a light post by their intestines? That's just not human, man. I just don't know what to think…" He trailed off for a moment, staring at the floor. He suddenly looked up and a grin flashed across his face.

"Doesn't make much difference to you though, does it? You still need to bring the kid in either way." Sanzo rolled his eyes in irritation.

"They might as well try to trap Bigfoot," he muttered. Clarence laughed.

"That remains to be seen." Sanzo shook his head and stepped out the door, shutting the door decisively behind him. He glanced around to make sure no one was watching, and leaned against the door frame for a minute, reveling in the natural light, a welcome change after the single sickly yellow lamp of the room. He glanced around once more, making sure no one had witness his momentary lapse into weakness, and set back off the way he had come.

Review. Pretty please?


	3. Nothing Is Perfect

For warnings and disclaimers, see first chapter.

Installment Three

In Which the Past is Revealed

OR

In Which the Author Realizes That She Hates Writing Titles That are Set Up Like This

Gojyo had been driving for about four minutes before he burst out laughing. Surprised, Hakkai turned a questioning glance onto his friend and room-mate.

"Man, your cousin is going to be so pssd when he realizes we took the car," he said, still chuckling. "You said he had somewhere to go today, right?" Hakkai laughed too, simply because he liked the notion of laughing. Truth be told, he did not think that a furious Sanzo waiting for the two of them when they got home to be particularly funny.

"Gojyo?" Hakkai asked a few minutes later. "Have you filled the gas tank recently?"

"No, I don't think so. Why?" Gojyo asked obliviously, running his eye casually over the dial. He jerked abruptly to the side of the road when he noticed the black needle reading dangerously close to the large, red E. Hakkai placed his head in his hands as Gojyo quickly muttered every relevant (and a few that weren't) swear word under the sun.

"Are we close to a gas station?" Hakkai finally asked, glancing up and down the suburban street. "Sometimes they do have one in the village square." Gojyo sighed, muttered something that was most likely obscene under his breath, then replied,

"I guess we'd better find out." Gojyo gave the key a vicious twist as he restarted the car. The engine coughed, spluttered, and that having used up all remaining fuel, promptly died.

"Sht," Gojyo muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. Hakkai glanced down at his watch and laughed dryly.

"Well, it hardly matters now how much time we take. Even if I do show up I won't get paid for the day."

"Might as well start walking," Gojyo muttered, raking a hand through his hair and hopping out onto the tree-lined boulevard. "The downtown area can't be that far away."

Luckily, Hakkai, having passed through the area several times on his way to work knew the general direction of the village square, and they reached it after only about a half hour and with little mishap.

"What time is it?" Hakkai asked, glancing longingly at a fast-food chain as they wandered down the streets of the village square. Given the time of day it was nearly deserted, except for the occasional housewife who threw the two of them a curious glance before continuing on with her errands. Gojyo looked up, followed Hakkai's gaze, and smiled.

"You hungry?" he asked. Hakkai opened his mouth, probably to protest that he was fine, when his stomach rumbling loudly caused him to shut his mouth and blush slightly.

"I could eat," he said in a small voice, still rather embarrassed.

"Then it's time for lunch," Gojyo said firmly, leading him into the restaurant.

Hakkai was rather surprised when Gojyo ordered the food carryout, and even more surprised when he led him into a small, quiet park. Hakkai looked a question, and Gojyo answered, almost seeming slightly flustered that he had noticed the park earlier and thought that it would be more pleasant than eating in the greasy fast-food restaurant. Hakkai nodded his understanding and took a seat at the single solitary picnic table.

"This is kind of nice park, isn't it?" Hakkai asked after several moments of silence, gazing at the scenic view.

"Yeah, it is," Gojyo muttered, a faraway look in his eyes. "Hakkai," he asked suddenly, and the tone of his voice made Hakkai put down his food. "I've been thinking. Why did you invite your cousin to live with us?" Hakkai slowly swallowed his final bite, pondering Gojyo's motives behind asking that question. Hakkai had long since given up on giving anyone a straight answer for anything. Instead, he tried to find out a person's reasons for wanting the information from him, and answered the question as clearly or as elusively accordingly. However, in this case he was stumped. Cautiously he asked,

"Aren't the two of you getting along now?" Gojyo answered with an exasperated grin, knowing Hakkai's answer was just a delay tactic until he could divine the real question beneath the first.

"We're getting along fine," Gojyo said lightly, determined to give Hakkai straight answers even if Hakkai would not give him any. "Thick as thieves, the pair of us. But what does that have to do with my question?" Gojyo asked innocently, quietly throwing Hakkai's tactics into the open.

Hakkai rolled his eyes at his friend's feigned innocence and complete lack of shame, and finally decided to throw diplomacy out the window. "Why do you ask, Gojyo?" he asked quietly. Gojyo was silent for a long moment, as if it were hard for him to put his thoughts to words.

"I just think it's rather odd," he began carefully, giving Hakkai a piercing look, as if ready to stop mid-sentence as soon as his words began to give offense, "that you're so close to your self-proclaimed 'cousin' when you told me not long ago that you were estranged from all of your family. Especially since no familial tie has been brought up." Hakkai was silent a long moment.

"Ah," was his only reply as he stared off vaguely into the distance. "I am going to assume," he began finally, "from the peculiar stress you placed on the word 'cousin', that you rather doubt we are blood relatives." Gojyo looked slightly guilty, but nodded just the same. "And if this be the case," Hakkai continued, "then why would I ask him to come live with me." Gojyo nodded again. Throughout Hakkai's statement he had carefully been staring off into space. Now he turned toward Gojyo, who was startled to see a peculiar light in his eyes.

"Sanzo really is my cousin, Gojyo," Hakkai said, his voice almost beseeching. "His mother is my father's sister. We really are blood related."

"Didn't stop you with Kanaan," Gojyo pointed out after a time, even though he hated himself for doing so. He couldn't stand the pained, closed look his friend got after her name was mentioned. The look did appear, but it did not stop Hakkai from answering somberly,

"No, I suppose it did not. However, I wasn't the one who invited him to come live with us, anyway. He sent me a letter a couple months ago saying his job had been transferred and asking whether I had a room to spare. Considering he's, in essence, our landlord I could hardly refuse."

"That's all?" Gojyo asked.

"That's all." Hakkai answered firmly.

"Honest to God?" Gojyo asked.

"Honest to God," Hakkai replied laughing, a note of finality in his voice.

"Good," Gojyo said, and Hakkai was surprised to hear some relief in his own. A fear that he had been harboring for almost two weeks suddenly looked far more likely. Wrenching his attention away from his own inner thoughts he turned to Gojyo and said as light heartedly as possible,

"Now I suppose we'd best find a trash bin."

"And then a gas station.

Hakkai laughed. "Yes, and then a gas station."

Sanzo had been home for two hours when there was a slight commotion on the outside landing, and first Hakkai and then Gojyo entered the flat, looking tired, uncomfortable, and smelling faintly of gasoline. Sanzo raised an eyebrow at Hakkai, who promptly answered,

"The jeep ran out of gas half way there. By the time we found a gas station we realized we might as well just come home again." Sanzo nodded almost imperceptibly and prepared to turn back to his paper, but something stopped him. In growing horror he watched Gojyo make a quiet joke to Hakkai and then disappear down the hallway, Hakkai smiling after him for some time.

Sanzo had only seen that look on Hakkai's face once before, and he did not like it any more now then he had then. Sanzo listened carefully, and after hearing Gojyo slam the door to his room got up and stood next to his cousin.

"So," Sanzo said finally. Hakkai looked questioningly up at him. Sanzo sighed and turned to face the window, lazily lighting a cigarette. "You never told me you were a fg," Sanzo said finally, turning back to Hakkai. Hakkai's eyes hardened, but his voice remained deceptively pleasant.

"Do you think less of me?" Sanzo took a long drag of his cigarette before answering.

"No… I don't suppose I do," he muttered, sighing heavily. "I didn't turn on you and Kanaan before. Why should I turn on you now?" Sanzo saw Hakkai relax, but only a tiny bit. He doubted that there were few people who would even be able to notice the change.

"I do appreciate that, you know," Hakkai said, suddenly, flopping onto the sofa and staring up at the ceiling. "You not turning on the two of us when the family found out," he clarified, still keeping his eyes carefully on the ceiling. "That always… that always did mean a lot to us…" Hakkai trailed off.

"Hakkai," Sanzo suddenly asked, leaning on the back of a chair. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Sanzo's voice was surprisingly soft, almost all of the roughness had left it. Hakkai looked at his cousin in surprise. He had only heard that happen once before in his entire life. "What happened to Kanaan? Did the family take her away?" Hakkai took a sharp intake of breath, a pained expression on his voice. Sanzo realized in a moment that he had said the wrong thing. He opened his mouth to apologize, but Hakkai lifted a hand, effectively silencing him.

He was silent a long moment, and when he finally answered his voice sounded like it was coming from a long way away.

"No, the family didn't take her away… they disowned me. They pretended I didn't exist. The didn't take my Kanaan from me…" he trailed off into silence again, but this time when he continued talking his voice was louder, harsher, full of anger that had been suppressed for almost three and a half years. "I never should have done it. I should have known what would happen. But it was my first big college assignment, and I was too preoccupied to worry about her."

"What happened?" Sanzo asked finally, a compassionate look on his face.

"It was late and I had run out of something I needed… I think my pen had run out of ink. I asked her if she could run down to the seven-eleven for me and pick some more up." He was silent again. Just when Sanzo was about to prod him along in some way he continued, "She was gone a long time. At first I was too preoccupied to worry much about her, but after forty-five minutes I went out looking. I finally found her in a back alley…" The look of pain and torment on Hakkai's face was so strong that Sanzo actually had to fight the urge to flinch.

"She died a few hours later. Her throat had been cut, but the cut missed the major arteries. I found her not long after, and for a while the doctors thought that she would pull through… but… she didn't. The doctor told me that right before she passed she asked them to tell me that she was sorry. The autopsy showed that she had been raped."

"And you blame yourself." It wasn't a question. Sanzo knew his cousin far too well for there to be any uncertainty in the matter.

"Who else can I blame?" he asked bitterly.

"The man who raped and killed her?" Sanzo asked in exasperation, but he knew that his words had fallen on deaf ears. "Does the family know?" Sanzo asked finally, quietly, rationally. Hakkai's face twisted for a moment before he answered,

"No, they don't. At first I didn't want to tell them, but one of the doctors advised me that it would be best. But I couldn't get a hold of them. They burn every letter I send them, they have caller ID so they don't pick up when I call. If I traveled there they'd close the door in my face." Sanzo nodded silently.

"Minnie should be told," Sanzo said finally. Hakkai looked up, met Sanzo's eyes and looked down again. Minnie was three years younger then Hakkai, and also his aunt. He, Kanaan, and Minnie had been very close as children. Hakkai believed that Minnie had guessed about his and his sister's relationship a full year before the rest of the family got wind of it.

"It never did hold well with Minnie what the family did to us, did it," Hakkai said, little emotion in his voice.

"No, it never did," Sanzo agreed. "She's spent the better part of these few years trying to convince her sister and brother-in-law to let her contact you."

"And I assume that she's made no head-way," Hakkai commented drily.

"I think that by now Aunt Naoko and Uncle Ben have actually mostly convinced themselves that Kanaan was their only child and that she went off to college. I even saw Aunt Naoko looking at Kanaan's portrait and muttering 'any day now, any day now,' to herself." Hakkai shook his head.

"I think that it hit mother hard," Hakkai said. "She always used to brag about how we had the perfect family. I think that realizing that we didn't really shocked her."

"She needed to learn that nothing is perfect," Sanzo said suddenly.

"No," Hakkai agreed. "Nothing is."

Please review!


	4. Hunger and Thirst

For warnings and disclaimers, see first chapter.

Installment Four

In Which Goku Finally Makes an Appearance

OR

Hopefully I Won't Hate This Chapter

Sanzo ground his teeth, more than a little annoyed. Searching for this boy was proving to be almost as fruitless as searching for the Seiten Taisei itself.

He had followed every meager lead given to him and come up with nothing. He had been to every major gang in the city, asking them to check their networks for the boy or anyplace where one could remain so well concealed for so long. He had been from one side of the city to the other nine times today and he hadn't found so much of a hint of this clever, elusive boy.

Sanzo sighed, telling himself that if he didn't find a respectable lead soon he'd have to assume that the last page of the file had been wrong; it had been talking about a different person, or that since the time of the writing the boy had either died or moved on to another city. It was ludicrous to think that none of his contacts could so much as give Sanzo evidence of the boy's existence. If tomorrow they still came up with nothing Sanzo would be forced to believe that the Squad had been wrong and the boy did not actually exist.

Sanzo's temple begin to twitch as he stepped out of the subway, not looking forward to the conversation he'd have with his boss if that turned out to be the case. He walked a few paces towards the stairs that led up to the sidewalk and froze.

There.

At the drinking fountain.

Sanzo's mind raced. The face was older then the one in the photograph, but nearly ten years had passed since the time it had been taken. The hair was longer then in the description from the diary, but time had passed since then too. There was something else very different about the boy, something that Sanzo couldn't quite place, but he put it down to the torn clothes and dirt-smudged face.

Deciding that this chance was too good to pass up, Sanzo quickly walked over to the boy.

"Hey, kid," Sanzo murmured quietly, trying to attract as little attention as possible, gently tapping the kid on the shoulder. The boy jumped and turned to face him, a strange wildness in his eyes. Some water had spilled out of the boy's mouth as he drank, and it was now cutting a muddy line down his chin.

Sanzo was silent a moment, deciding what to do with the kid. "Hey, kid," he repeated again. "You hungry?"

The mantra was telling him to run, so what choice did he have? If he had had a choice in the matter he probably would've stopped to rest, found something to eat or something to drink, but he didn't have a choice. He had been running for a long, long time, and by now he didn't even know why he was running. The boy suddenly found himself in a busy area. Although people never noticed him, even when he ran right past them, he hated crowds all the same. He didn't exactly know what he was going to do when he reached the even busier upper-class urban streets, but his body decided the matter for him, like it almost always did. Before he had any say in the matter he catapulted himself down into a subway stop. Vaguely he remembered having been here before, but that had been many years earlier, when the mantra had only just started. His mind wasn't much interested in things like memory anyway, so it quickly dismissed the thought.

After jumping almost the entire flight of stairs it took him a moment to get reoriented, and when he had managed to get his balance back he was horrified to find that the throng he had just escaped from was nothing compared to this. The instinctual part of his mind briefly shut down, not able to cope with all the human activity surrounding it, leaving Son Goku in his right mind for the first time in several years.

The first thing that hit him was the hunger. It hit like a tidal wave, leaving only rubble and ruin in its wake. He doubled over from the pain, clutching his stomach, wondering how no one could notice him when he was making such a scene.

The second thing he noticed didn't come as suddenly, but when the full force finally overtook him it was just as painful. Maybe more so. Worse than the hunger was the thirst.

However, the thirst he could do something about, Goku realized suddenly, watching a woman take a quick sip of water before rushing off to catch her train. Every fiber of his body screamed for him to leave now, to start running and not stop until he had left all the people far, far behind. But it was his mind that was in control now, not his body, so he carefully made his way through the crowd of people to the other side of the station.

Goku's hand shook slightly as he reached for the knob, from hunger and thirst and the murmurings of an unknown fear in the back of his mind. But the first sip of water was pure heaven.

Those who say that water has no taste are obviously taking it for granted, Goku thought to himself as he drank his fill of the cold, clear liquid. Water tastes like water, he concluded, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly like he wanted to smile but couldn't quite remember how.

A quick tap on the shoulder was all it took to wrest his other mind from its brief holiday. Goku quickly jerked around, mind racing, wondering what to do, but on another level, a deeper level, he was surprisingly calm.

Goku looked up into a pair of surprisingly purple eyes. It had been a long time since Goku had met anyone's eyes, an even longer time since he had met anyone's eyes without both of them flinching.

But this strange man didn't flinch.

And neither did Goku.

_What the FCK?_ Sanzo thought to himself, his temple twitching slightly as he led the boy towards his car. That had been too easy. Far, far too easy. The kid hadn't put up any sort of fuss. Wasn't he ever taught not to get into a car with strangers? Sanzo thought exasperatedly, his hand inching towards his gun, just from the satisfaction of putting a few holes in the nearest wall. And not only that, but no one had even noticed him leading the kid away. He had expected at least _one_ person to shout something like 'Kidnapper!' or 'Sicko!', but no one seemed to notice the tramp at all.

Sanzo shook his head to himself as he slammed the drivers' side door of the jeep, and waited for a moment while the boy easily swung himself into the passenger seat. He had to suppress a shiver. Well, that's one thing, he thought to himself. It's not every day that you meet someone who makes absolutely no noise when they move.

Sanzo lit a cigarette and glanced over at the boy. He made rather a pathetic figure, knees drawn up to his chest, head resting on his knees, trailing one dirty hand across the window. For a moment Sanzo contemplated Hakkai's reaction when he saw all the muddy fingerprints over the car window, then realized that he was neglecting the road, and forced his eyes and mind back to the front.

But his eyes and mind seemed to be paying him no heed. He kept on finding himself watching the boy, and no matter how stern the lecture he gave himself was, a moment later he would find the same thing happening again.

He sighed and turned into the lane that would take him to the (current) Headquarters of this branch of Rosemont, but after another few seconds, reversed his decision and got back into the left-turn only lane instead.

"I want to run a check on him before I bring him in," Sanzo muttered quietly to himself, too quietly to be heard, but the boy cocked his head up, as if he _had_ heard. Sanzo shook his head at the strange gesture, the strangeness of this boy once again looming over him.

Sanzo pulled into the garage and still wordlessly, the boy hopped out. Sanzo found him waiting patiently at the door from the garage into the main entrance. He had to stop twice and look around on the stairs to make sure the boy was still following him. Having someone completely silent trailing you is a rather odd experience. He held the door open for the boy, and the boy entered, automatically reaching for the light switch. His hand scrabbled momentarily, getting muddy handprints on the walls, but eventually his fingers found the switch and flipped it on.

He's obviously lived in a place with electricity before at least, Sanzo thought to himself. I was beginning to wonder.

He passed the boy, who was standing uncertainly in the middle of the immaculately clean room and entered the kitchen.

"If you want to take a shower the bath room is down the hall," Sanzo called to the boy, still standing in the middle of the room with a puzzled expression on his face. He pulled out a large pot and swore under his breath when he almost set it atop Hakkai's forgotten history book.

"You should at least wash your hands before you eat," Sanzo said, looking the boy in the eye and then promptly looking away again. There was something about him that made your eye want to skitter across him. It was an effort to stare at him for too long.

Sanzo sighed and turned away, realizing that the boy probably wasn't going to move. He quickly brought the water to a boil, and threw in the ramen (one of the few dishes Sanzo actually knew how to make). He also threw in a few vegetables just for good measure, wondering weather the kid would actually eat them.

As Sanzo poured the soup into a bowl and placed it on the table the boy walked past him, washed his hands, and sat down in front of the bowl, briefly bowing over it. A second later he was stuffing his face as if he hadn't had a proper meal in a year.

He might not have, at that, Sanzo thought to himself, turning to stare out the window. Who knows what the kid has been up to.

He looked back in time to see the boy tilting the bowl up towards his face, making sure to get every last drop of the broth. Sanzo was about to stand up and get more for the boy when he stopped. The broth and the vegetables were gone, but the noodles remained in the bowl, lying in a sodden heap at the bottom. He raised an eyebrow at the boy, who caught his gaze only for a moment before looking away, over Sanzo's shoulder at the kitchen counter.

Movement caught his eye and he looked down at the table, to see the boy's fingers moving in a strange, deft pattern. Sanzo frowned, eyes following as a double triangle pattern was shaped, then began and shaped again. It took him a moment to recognize the Star of David.

"It's against your religion to eat noodles?" Sanzo askedskeptically, one eyebrow raised. The boy almost imperceptibly shook his head, but continued tracing the pattern, his gaze occasionally flickering from the all-engrossing counter-top back to Sanzo and then back again.

Sanzo watched him for another moment before shaking his head and standing up, deciding that the boy must be slightly touched in the head. His gaze landed on the still-open history book, and a small chill ran up his spine. The book was open to a page on World War Two, the pictures featuring either Hitler or members of concentration camps. He turned back to the boy, who was still tracing that same, meaningful pattern.

"Don't tell me," Sanzo whispered, too quietly to be heard. "Not post-war." The boy made no sign that he had somehow managed to hear Sanzo, even with the impossibly quiet voice, except to stop tracing the pattern and sit back in his chair. Sanzo turned and walked down the hallway, one hand massaging his temple, now more confused then ever.

"Just who is this kid," Sanzo whispered to himself as he shut the door to his room, grabbing a pack of cigarettes. He stared out the window for some time, contemplating, occasionally raking a hand through his hair.

(A/N: After WWII all the people in concentration camps were very happy, so they had very big parties and celebrations, where much food and drink was served. However, they had been starving for several years. This meant that their bodies were on starvation mode, taking ALL nutrients from foods instead of, say, thirty-fifty percent which is normal. Once all the fatty food entered their system, they were still on starvation mode, so one hundred percent of the nutrients were taken from the fatty foods. Their hearts couldn't deal with so much fat, so they had heart attacks. Thousands died. This is a true story, and also what I was referring to at the end of this chapter. . Sweet dreams!)

Sorry, y'all, the next update might take a little while... you see, the first four chapters I finished weeks ago, and I'm just now posting, but the next update I'm still in the process of writing. I'll try to get it out by the end of this week, at the latest.

Special thanks to:

Vivid Mirage: Thanks so much for reviewing! I'm sorry I haven't posted any thing before now...

Timberwolf220: Yay! Thank you! I hope that the plot stays fairly good as well!

Vivid Mirage: Actually... I never thought about it. I need to go back and re-read that chapter now andsee what you're referring to...

Vivid Mirage (again . Yay!): Thanks so much for reviewing each of my chapters.It makes me feel all happy and fuzzy. I wastrying to make the characters seem a little bit out there, I'm glad you picked it up. I'm also glad that you don't hate the story because of that, I was worried thatmany people wouldn't like my portrayal.


	5. Bewildered Reflections

For warnings and disclaimers, please see first chapter.

Okay, I apologize for this chapter. It's wasn't really my favorite to write, and I think it shows... The thing is, even though not a lot happens in the chapter, I still needed it to make the next one make sense... Chapter six should be much better, because I'm actually looking forward to writing it.

Installment Five

In Which Goku Reflects

OR

Now We're Sailing Into Uncertain Waters

"Anyone home?" Hakkai called, setting down his briefcase and brushing his hair from his eyes. "Gojyo? Sanzo?"

Sanzo emerged from his room a moment later, eyes half closed and sucking on a cigarette.

"Yeah, I'm here," he muttered. Hakkai looked at him and laughed a little bit.

"Hard day?" he asked, flipping through the mail.

"Not really," Sanzo answered after a moment. "I found the kid." At Hakkai's blank stare, he elaborated, "Oh, that was my assignment. To bring in some kid."

"Where is he?" Hakkai asked, wondering what on Earth would possess a corporation like Rosemont to bring in a small child.

"He's, uh… sitting on the couch, Hakkai. Y'know, right in front of you?" Hakkai looked up, staring at the couch. He squinted for a fraction of a second, before he finally made out the image.

"Whoa!" he yelped, jumping back a half a foot. "That's so weird. I've stared straight at him twice since I've come home and haven't seen him." Hakkai shook his head in disbelief. "Maybe I need to get my eyes checked." Hakkai surveyed the boy more closely.

"Those are your clothes," he said suddenly.

"Yeah, his are in the wash," Sanzo murmured, leaning against the doorway.

"What's his name," Hakkai asked suddenly. It was eerily easy to speak about the boy as if he were in a different room.

"I guess it's Goku," Sanzo murmured finally. "But the only reference I have is a couple pages torn out of a diary, and the handwriting is frckn' hard to make out."

"Have you tried asking him?" Hakkai asked.

"Doesn't respond. It's bizarre, though…"

"What's bizarre?"

"He doesn't talk. Ever. And he's not deaf either; he's actually got excellent hearing… And he understands stuff. He'll react to commands and questions, as long as he doesn't have to talk…" Hakkai nodded, and turned to go. He stopped two steps into the hallway and turned around.

"Sanzo, where'd you pick him up?"

Sanzo grunted. "Subway station."

Hakkai smiled a bit. "Just making sure," he said, turned, and continued down the corridor.

Goku sat like that the entire night. He didn't move once; he never even twitched. He was too absorbed in his thoughts to notice the conversation between Hakkai and Sanzo, too absorbed to notice much the same thing happening when Gojyo got off work at three AM (A/N: Gojyo bartends. I'm not sure whether I actually ever said what he does, but that's it. That's the reason why he seems to have such bizarre hours.).

He was thinking, racking his brain, for a memory of something that he wasn't sure had even happened. Ever since he had jumped into the subway station, been suddenly resubmerged in the world of ethics and memories, away from the instincts that had ruled his life for so long, he had felt something wrong. There was something out of place. He was trying to remember what it was. He hadn't called upon memories for such a long time he was having a hard time deciding what was real and what imagination, but being surrounded by people seemed to be helping. He had tried once before, in a brief period of lucidity, to remember what was so much different about him then the rest of his race, but the exercise had failed. Or, Goku thought suddenly, he had touched upon something so terrible it had sent his lucid mind reeling, spinning once again out of control.

Finally, just as the sun was beginning to peer over the edges of the treetops, just as Goku was beginning to drift off into something like sleep, he had a flash of what could have been a memory.

A man laughing. A hand reaching into his line of vision. A woman screaming. As the brief memory came to an end, Goku's head fell back on the sofa pillow, and he knew no more.

"So, who's the kid?" Gojyo asked casually over breakfast, jerking his head towards the boy who still sat in much the same position, although now fast asleep.

It was Hakkai who answered. "A boy Sanzo needs for work. I think he said his name was Goku." Sanzo made no reaction, either affirmative or negative, so Hakkai assumed he had gotten the name right. "I think that it was mentioned earlier that you were here for recruitment? They might want Goku for an interview."

This roused Sanzo just long enough to make some small noncommittal response, which Hakkai, once again, took as an affirmative answer. Sanzo closed his eyes, hiding a wince very well. He knew what the most likely fate of the boy would be.

There was no such thing as 'recruitment'. People joined. That was it. There was no advertising involved. Rosemont relied on its notoriety for new members, and that was the end of the story. The truth was, no one really knew where people who were brought in to Rosemont went. It happened very rarely, and when it did happen, the prisoners were almost always sent to the government right away. The ones who didn't go to the government… well, there were all sorts of rumors of underground concentration camps and prisons. Every once in a while you'd hear about someone being transferred to one, and usually after the rumor was started, ran its course, and died down, the person in question would melt quietly into the background. There were so many 'mysterious' disappearances in Rosemont, that no one found it strange if their co-worker suddenly stopped showing up for work, especially if the supervisor didn't seem too concerned.

"Gojyo, can I talk to you?" Sanzo asked suddenly, standing and stepping into the other room. Hakkai and Gojyo exchanged bewildered glances, but he followed Sanzo all the same.

"You bartend, right?" Sanzo asked, lazily holding out a cigarette for Gojyo to light. Gojyo barely had time to nod before Sanzo continued "Is the bar called 'Rick's'?"

"Uh, yeah…" Gojyo answered, frowning. Sanzo smiled a little to himself.

"Good. I heard some guys at work talking about it. If you see anyone who looks like they could be from Rosemont –"

"You want me to spy on them?"

Sanzo gave a short, barking, laugh. "If you want to call it that. I just want you to tell me whether they say the words 'Seiten Taisei' or not." Gojyo gave Sanzo a piercing look. Then he sighed.

"Sure I'll do it, but only because I can see that you have your gun in your pocket," he said finally, and walked back to the kitchen, whistling.

"What was that all about?" Hakkai asked, looking up as Gojyo reentered the room.

"Nothing," Gojyo said, flopping down. "You better hurry," he said, glancing at the clock. "We don't want a repeat of a few days ago."

Hakkai nodded and stood, but not before giving Gojyo a funny look. "Nothing," he murmured to himself as he snatched his briefcase from near the door, his brow furrowed in thought. "Nothing…" 1

"Hey, kid, wanna hand me the remote?" Gojyo asked, flopping onto the couch, opening a can of beer. "Yo, kid?" Gojyo sighed and made to stand up, but Goku tossed the remote to him first.

"Heh." Gojyo said, turning to face the boy. "Guess droopy-eyes was right when he said you understand us."

Goku sat up a little straighter on the sofa and turned to look at Gojyo. A chill went down Gojyo's spine as soon as their eyes met. Not only was the glassiness and lack of emotion startling, but also the recognition that shone in the boy's eyes, as if he knew Gojyo of old. Gojyo quickly got up and stalked to the kitchen, but the boy's eyes followed him. Turning back, Gojyo swore, and then made his way back to his room.

Back on the sofa, the tips of Goku's mouth turned up ever so slightly, and he let out a little gasp of breath that just might have been a laugh.

"Hey, kid," Sanzo called. It was a few hours later, and Gojyo still hadn't come out from his room. After checking the time and realizing it was almost three o'clock in the afternoon, Sanzo assumed that he had drunk himself into a stupor in his room. "Come with me," he said, walking into the living room.

Goku glanced up at him, eyebrows raised. Sanzo sighed.

"Ah… some guys at work want to interview you," he replied to the unspoken question. For a moment, nothing happened. Sanzo turned around at the door to look expectantly at the boy, who was still on the couch, unmoving.

Sanzo blinked, and the boy wasn't there. It wasn't that he had moved, he just simply wasn't there. He shook his head and turned toward the door, and took a step back. The boy was lounging against the door, arms crossed, head down. Sanzo stared. The boy's nails looked like talons. They were nearly as long as his hand, and still growing.

Quietly, calmly, Sanzo reached into his pocket and pulled out his gun. He aimed it carefully at Goku's head.

"I've had just about enough of this," he hissed. "What the fck are you?" Goku lifted his head so Sanzo could see his face. He grinned, showing extra long canines, and then fell to the floor in a dead faint.

Sanzo still hadn't decided what to do with the kid when Hakkai came home, almost bashing the door against Goku, who still lay where he had fallen.

"Sanzo?" Hakkai asked, stepping carefully over Goku. Sanzo sighed.

"Don't look at me," he muttered, "I told him I was going to take him with me to work, and then he flipped out. Then he fainted. And, well…" Sanzo trailed, off, gesturing blandly in Goku's general direction.

"So, what are you going to do with him?" Hakkai asked finally.

"I have no idea. I'd probably say put him in either the basement or the garage."

"The _garage_? Sanzo, what the hll _happened_?"

Sanzo shrugged almost imperceptibly, and Hakkai sighed.

"I take it that you don't know, then?" he asked. As there was no reply, Hakkai assumed he was right. "Was Gojyo here when this happened?" he asked.

"He was here, but he was either drunk, high, or asleep," Sanzo said dismissively.

"Or any combination of the three," Hakkai muttered under his breath. "Now, really, how are you going to clean this up?"

"I guess I could call Rosemont…" Sanzo said doubtfully.

"You don't want to do that?" Hakkai asked, surprised. Sanzo shook his head.

"Not yet anyway." Hakkai looked a question, so he explained "I think I'd like to know _why_ this kid needs to be brought in so bad before I actually do."

"You don't trust them?" Hakkai asked. It wasn't a question, not a real one, anyway, so Sanzo's only reply was to turn and walk away.

Please review! The next chapter should be up no later then Wednesday.

1 That was the part I had the most trouble with. I'm having a hard time deciding what parts (if any) of a subplot I'm going to use, and if I decide to use it, that will be important... but if I decide not to, it won't. Sorry about all this.

Special thanks to...

Vivid Mirage:Sanzo rode the subway because it would be harder to trace him, and it would probably be more convenient than attempting to drive in the middle of a big, congested city. And yes, I did just make up those reasons off the top of my head. You are being quite picky about details, but please continue to point these things out to me. It will make me pay more attention to them if I know that other people are too. And thanks for reviewing!

Timberwolf220: Yay! People actually care if I update! That makes me happy. And don't worry about not checking this story very often, now that I actually have to write these before I post them it's going to take me considerably longer...

Koto Juri: Aw, thanks so much! I'm happy that you think it's cute.

endragh: I promise to update as often as possible .


	6. Lirin's Voice

For warnings and disclaimers, please see first chapter

I'M SO SORRY! I really did think I'd have this up sooner! A million apologies! You may beat me with a plank if you wish!

Installment Six

In Which The Climax Finally Occurs

OR

Lirin is Special

"Sanzo, you're not just going to _leave_ him there!" Hakkai yelled, following Sanzo into the kitchen. "Sanzo, what are you doing?" he snapped, standing in the doorway. Sanzo picked up the phone, not deigning to make a reply.

"Hey, Clarence, I need you to connect me to someone," he muttered into the phone.

"Sure, who?" Clarence answered.

"What's the name of that clean-up squad you hate? Permanent mercenaries?"

"Permanent freelance," Clarence growled. "Why on earth do you need to talk to _them_?"

"It doesn't matter, now shut up," Sanzo snapped. There was some grumbling from the other end, but the hold music began playing, and then the phone rang again.

"Hello, you have reached the Permanent Freelance branch of the Rosemont Corporation," a female voice chirruped. In the background Sanzo could here several crashes, and then what sounded like a cat hissing and a child screaming. "Please hold," the same voice said. There was a smacking sound as the woman dropped the phone onto the desk or table it was situated on.

"LIREN, FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE! THE CAT DOESN'T WANT TO BE HELD! HOW CAN I TELL? BY THE FACT THAT HE JUST SCRATCHED YOUR ARM TO RIBBONS, THAT'S HOW! LIREN, STOP ACTING LIKE A FIVE-YEAR OLD!" In a much more reasonable voice the woman continued, "Poor dear, act your age! How old are you now? Fifteen? Sixteen?"

"I'm fifteen!" a girl's voice replied.

"Well, no matter, hush now, I'll fix your arm in just a minute, I have a customer call right now, all right? Do you want to get Dokugakuji to clean that for you? Go on, run along dear."

"W-Where's Kou?" the girl asked, her voice still watery.

"I have no idea where your brother is," the woman said patiently. "Now, run along, otherwise you'll faint from blood loss. Look, you've already stained the carpet, and I just cleaned it, too!"

"It w-wasn't _my_ blood last time!" the girl cried indignantly. "It was Dokugakuji's!"

"So it was, now run along! I'm taking a customer call, my dear!"

"Okay, I'm going, I'm going – whoa!"

"And don't fall! You've made the floor slippery, now!"

"Yeah, I know!" the girl called, but her voice was faint, as if from several rooms away.

"I'm terribly sorry for the wait, sir," the woman said. "Now, what is your problem?"

"Well," Sanzo began, but was immediately cut off.

"Oh, I'm sorry sir, I should have asked initially. Do you work for Rosemont?"

"Um, yes," Sanzo answered, caught off guard.

"I will need your name and registration number, please?" the woman asked. Sanzo hesitated just a moment, then gave her the information.

"That seems to be in order," she said after a moment. "Now, what seems to be the problem? Is it with your assignment?"

"Yes," Sanzo answered. "I was assigned to bring a boy into headquarters who had disappeared about ten years ago,"

"I'm sorry, but I don't believe that we can help you with anything like that," the woman interrupted him. Sanzo sighed.

"That's not it, I _have _the kid," Sanzo snapped, sick of being interrupted.

"You do?" the woman sounded surprised. "I'm sorry, then please continue."

"The problem is, the kid is passed out on the floor with claws the size of steak knives and canines that make him look like a vampire!"

"Oh my," the woman murmured. "This boy doesn't have yellow eyes, does he?"

"He does," Sanzo answered, frowning.

"Oh. Oh, dear." The woman said quietly. "Yellow eyes, and brown hair I suppose, and a golden diadem, and-"

"Hold on," Sanzo interrupted. "Golden _what_?"

"Golden… golden diadem…" the woman trailed off. "Oh… oh _dear. _Listen, sir, this is outside my jurisdiction. I need to confer with my boss about this, as soon as I do we'll be out right away."

"Wait a minute!" Sanzo yelled. "I just wanted to know whether I was allowed to shoot the damn thing!"

"You'll have to, if it wakes up," the woman said cryptically. "I trust you keep extra rounds somewhere, yes?" Sanzo opened his mouth to argue, but the woman promptly hung up on him.

"…The Hell?" he asked finally, after a moment.

"What happened?" Hakkai asked, frowning.

"I have no idea," Sanzo answered. "She just started talking."

"What did she say regarding…" Hakkai jerked his head towards the living room.

"Hey, guys," Gojyo walked into the room, stifling a yawn. He winced as a ray of sunlight caught the window and made his way over to the ibuprofen, grumbling.

"Hangover, Gojyo?" Hakkai asked.

"Shut up," was his only reply as he swallowed a handful of tablets.

"I really think you're only supposed to take two-"

"It doesn't matter, I'll barf it up anyway," Gojyo replied, sitting at the table. "What's up with you two?" he asked after a moment. Hakkai opened his mouth to reply but was cut off short by a groan from the living room. Without a word both Hakkai and Sanzo rushed to the other room, Gojyo stumbling behind them.

The boy was waking up. He groaned again, and pushed himself to a sitting position. He stared at Hakkai, Sanzo, and Gojyo in turn, without emotion or recognition. Noiselessly, the boy stood up, again looking at the three of them. Finally, after a moment the boy loped toward Sanzo, still showing absolutely no emotion on his face. He raised one hand experimentally, pointing his claws predatorily. As soon as he began brining his hand down, Sanzo pulled the trigger.

It went straight through him. The boy took a step back, hissing, but otherwise acted as if a bullet had not just blown a hole the size of a quarter through his stomach.

This, at least, seemed to break Gojyo out of his stupor.

"Holy FCK!" he yelled, standing straight. "What the _FCK_," he repeated, for lack of anything better to say.

"I think I agree with you," Hakkai muttered, taking a step back, as blood began to trickle down the boy's shirt. It turned to stare at them again, this time a murderous glint in its eyes.

"It looks like some sort of animal," Hakkai muttered, watching the way the boy's face never showed any real emotion. "Only instincts," he continued his thought out loud.

Sanzo shot the thing twice more.

"_Sanzo!_" Gojyo yelled. "If one bullet didn't even faze the thing, why the Hll would ya' think that two more would make any difference?"

"Well, what am I supposed to do, sit back and let the thing kill us?" Sanzo yelled back. Noiselessly, the boy appeared behind Sanzo. He swept his arm like a scythe, sending Sanzo flying in the process, leaving a deep gash from his neck to his waist.

Still noiselessly, the boy walked over to where Sanzo lay and placed his foot on his throat. For the first time he showed an emotion. As he put more pressure on Sanzo's neck, he smiled. It was a happy smile, a child's smile; not the smile of a murderer.

"Sick bstrd," Gojyo muttered, swiping at him. The boy ducked, but the blow still glanced off the side of his head, overbalancing him slightly. Just enough for Hakkai to twist one of his arms behind his back and wrestle him to the ground.

"What the Hll?" Hakkai yelled, holding on with all his might.

"Dmn, at first I felt bad for ganging up on a little kid, but…" Gojyo muttered, as he and Hakkai put both of their combined weights on the boy, only narrowly managing to keep him from writhing out of their grip.

"Can you hold him for just a moment longer?" a quiet female voice asked Hakkai. He jumped in surprise, just narrowly managing to keep his grip on the boy, who was now flailing harder then ever.

"Lirin, calm him," the woman said, still speaking in the same calming tone of voice. Hakkai tried to turn his head to get a glimpse of the woman, but the boy's struggling was too strong for him to take his eyes off even for a moment.

"Excuse me," Lirin said, gently pushing Hakkai and Gojyo outward, so she had enough room to unceremoniously plop onto the boy's stomach.

"You know," the girl said as she leaned forward, placing her hands on the boy's shoulders, "this would work a lot better if one of you two did it. And a _whole_ lot better if Mr. Droopy-eyes over there did it. But of course he went after him first," Lirin said conversationally.

"Lirin, get on with it," the woman urged, her voice still soft, but now urgent.

"Right," Lirin murmured, leaning over until her nose was almost touching the boy's. "Be sure to keep him pinned down now," Lirin cautioned, before turning her full attention on the boy.

"Goku," she whispered quietly. "Son Goku. Son Goku, the Monkey King, come back," she muttered. The boy lurched, but Hakkai and Gojyo held on with dogged determination. "Come back to us," she whispered again. "Come back to your friends. You remember your friends, don't you? Sha Gojyo, Cho Hakkai, and… and Genjyo Sanzo. You remember them, don't you? You have to remember them. You have to remember Sanzo, at least," the girl whispered, her eyes beginning to brim with tears. "Do you remember me? Do you remember Dokugakuji and Yaone? You must remember Kougaiji, at least. You said that he was the first real fight you'd had in years, remember? Please remember!" Lirin was crying now, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. The boy didn't seem to be affected at all, but both Hakkai and Gojyo felt like they had just swallowed dry ice. "Please remember!" she begged. "Please remember! Remember Sha Jien, and Cho Gonou, and Kami-Sama. Even Hakuryu! You must have some recollection of some of them!

"Yaone, I'm not getting through to him!" she wailed. "I know he's still there! I can feel him, down there somewhere, but the Saiten Taisei is too strong! I need the diadem! Please, Goku!" Lirin was screaming now, Gojyo and Hakkai screwing up their faces against the shrill, beseeching voice.

"Fine!" she suddenly roared, yanking him up by the collar, throwing Gojyo and Hakkai off at last. "Do you see that!" she yelled, holding the boy's head so that he was forced to turn uncomprehending eyes on Sanzo. "Do you have any idea what you've done? Any idea? _DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT HE MEANS TO YOU?_" Lirin's voice was cold and hard, not at all resembling the laughing and bubbly voice she had been using only a moment before. "_DO YOU REMEMBER THE CAGE? THE CHAINS? THE NOTHINGNESS HE SAVED YOU FROM?_" Her face was screwed up in horror, and she was shaking the Saiten Taisei with every accentuated syllable.

"Peace, Lirin," a voice said from the doorway. Hakkai noticed vaguely from his position on the floor, which he had not moved from since dropping there, that the door had been broken open. Whether by Lirin and Yaone or this new stranger, though, he wasn't sure.

"Hey kid," the man muttered. "Lirin, hold him still," he ordered. "Hey, kid," he repeated, returning his attention to the boy. "Looking for this?" he asked, and drew out what looked to be a golden crown.

Kougaiji roughly shoved the diadem down onto the Saiten Taisei's forehead, where it contracted for a moment, then reshaped itself obligingly.

Goku gasped as his appearance returned to normal, suddenly hanging on to Lirin for dear life. His eyes widened, and he gasped,

"S-Sanzo?" in a voice raspy from disuse. Then his eyes rolled upwards, and he fell sideways.

Yaone sighed, regarding the forms of all four of the 'Sanzo ikkou'. None of them were, at that point, conscious.

Please Review!

Oh, yeah, if anybody is sitting there thinking 'What the HECK!' Don't worry, that was the desired affect. Stuff will actually make sense in the next chapter, though. There's a novel idea: things making sense.

SWEET! There's only one chapter left. Of course, I am going to write a sequal, (I'll have to, I kept a lot of things hanging...) but I'll probably talk more about that at the end of the last (next) chapter . I'm so excited, I've only ever finished one story before this!

SOOO! A Great Big Special Thanks To... (I'm sorry if I make any mistakes. I cleaned out my inbox and now I can't figure out what's what...)

Vivid Mirage: Yay! Nitpicking sessions! They make me happy in a wierd sort of way... I hope this chapter lived up to your expectations!

Wolfstone: Thank you! I'm glad that you don't regret clicking on my story after all .

TaraYuki-Uesugi: Sorry... Goku was in this, he was just... possessed. He'll be normal by next chapter, though. AndI'm glad you liked my portrayal.

Ressurector of the Dead: Wooooow! Thanks so, so much! (I over-react a lot, too...)

Thanks so much, my lovely, lovely reviewers!


	7. The End, Yeah Right

God, this chapter just did NOT want to come out... it was pretty impressive. I'm going on a trip, though, so I had to finish this before I left.

For disclaimer and warnings, see first chapter.

All right, here we are, y'all, the long awaited last chapter! I'm sorry if it sucks, it's one thirty in the morning right now, but I am NOT redoing it.

Installment Seven

In Which a Bunch of People Talk

OR

The End

Goku sleepily opened his eyes and frowned, trying to make out the strange dark green haze that was playing in front of his eyes. It took him a moment to realize that the haze was not, in fact, a hallucination, but simply the back of a sofa, which he now lay on. He frowned. There were no green sofas in his house. He sat straight up, looking out over the back of the couch, and was met with the eyes of five people. A chill crawled down his spine as, one by one, he placed them in a memory that was impossible; that he was certain was not his own.

"Where am I?" he started to say, but was cut off long before he got the words out by Yaone laughing.

"You see, Kou? I told you he would win." Yaone turned her eyes toward Goku, and another chill went down his spine as he traced not the similarities, but the differences between this woman and the one from his memory. She was the same woman, it was undoubtable, but it was more in the way that she stood and talked and held herself then in her physical appearance that proclaimed this truth. Goku frowned as, one by one, he sought the eyes of the four others who sat around the kitchen table, and one by one, noted the same thing in each of them.

"We had a bet going," Yaone explained, eyes dancing. "A bet over who would be the last to wake up. I said you right off the bat, but Kou thought that Sanzo would wake up last, because of his injury." Goku took a sharp intake of breath as a flash of something that wasn't quite memory jolted through his mind. He looked up at Sanzo, then dropped his eyes hurriedly, and opened his mouth, but was once again cut off.

"Don't," This time it was Kougaiji who had spoken. Goku looked at him questioningly. "You were about to apologize." He continued. It wasn't a question, but he wasn't wrong, so Goku chose not to answer. "Don't apologize for something you had no control over."

This time Goku did not even bother opening his mouth, just made it sufficiently obvious that he was about to disagree and allowed someone to begin speaking. Again, it was Kougaiji.

"Don't ever make the mistake of thinking that you and… that, that –"

"Saiten Taisei," Yaone supplied helpfully.

"Thank you," Kougaiji gave her a curt nod and continued. "Don't ever think that you're one and the same thing. You may happen to inhabit the same body, but…" he trailed off, apparently at the end of the amount of reassurances he could make in one day.

"But how is that right?" Goku asked. Sanzo, Hakkai, and Gojyo jumped. It was the first time any of them had heard him speak. "The… the Saiten Taisei or whatever you called 'im, he _is _me. I could, _can_ feel 'im. He's what kept me alive for so long when I was out on the streets."

"Could you have stopped it from hurting Sanzo?" Yaone asked, quietly. Goku turned to her, eyes wide, mouth opened to speak.

No one interrupted him. But no sound came out.

"Did you want to hurt Sanzo?" Yaone continued after a moment's pause.

"_He _did," Goku began, but was cut off.

"Did _you _want to? Not the Saiten Taisei, but _you_?" Goku dropped his eyes.

"Of course not." He said quietly. He jerked his head up and glared at Yaone. "Of course not!" he repeated, louder.

"Exactly," Yaone said happily, flashing her brilliant smile. "So, anyway, it turned out that Sanzo woke up first after all. Gojyo almost beat you, though; he only woke up a half-day before you." It took Goku a moment to connect the pieces of the scattered conversation. After he understood what she meant, frowning, he asked,

"Why did it take Gojyo so long to wake up?" Hakkai snorted loudly, and even Sanzo looked like he had the barest hints of a smile starting. Gojyo was carefully looking at no one in particular, so it was Hakkai who answered.

"He O.D.ed on ibuprofen," he said with a remarkably straight face. Goku looked at Hakkai for a moment, then turned his gaze on Gojyo. His blank look quickly changed to a smirk, which was not lost on Gojyo.

"Squirt! If you have something you wanna say to me, then say it!" he roared, making as if to get up, then thinking better of it. Shaking his head, Goku placed his head in his hands. His small frame began to shiver uncontrollably, and Yaone was halfway to her feet before she realized that Goku was laughing.

He hadn't laughed in such a long time that he had almost forgotten how. It felt so good to have an emotion as purely human as mirth that Goku laughed for far longer then was warranted, but then the last eight years of his life came bubbling up, and he knew that he wouldn't stop until he was finally free of the weight of them.

All five of the people sitting around the kitchen table turned to stare at Goku; all except Sanzo, who pointedly turned away. Yaone, who was sitting across from him, thought she might have seen a smile cross his face, but it was probably her imagination.

"Wait…" Goku asked after he was done, changing position so he could see into the kitchen more easily. "Didn't Sanzo lose a lot of blood? Why did he wake up first?"

Yaone badly stifled a laugh. "Lirin was attempting to see to his wounds while Kou and I worked on you. I… believe he woke up from discomfort."

"That reminds me, Ms. Yaone," Hakkai said. Gojyo rolled his eyes at the formality, a gesture which Hakkai obtrusively ignored. "Why was it that Lirin was the one who was… attempting to bring Goku back?"

"She feels things too strongly." To their surprise, it was Kougaiji who answered.

"She has an… ability. She can make other's emotions her own, which makes her… ideal for dealing with these kinds of situations." Yaone continued.

"'These kinds of situations'?" Sanzo asked, raising his eyebrows. "How many times have you dealt with something like this?"

"Well, never," Yaone admitted. "We've had two other problems that we resolved the same way, though," she added brightly. "And she wasn't the only one who could do it, she was just the only one who knew how… didn't you hear her say it would work better if one of you guys did it?" Yaone asked. Her voice was still kind, but all cheerfulness had gone from it.

"Yeah." Gojyo said, thinking. "She said it would work best of all if Sanzo did it, though… Why is that?" he asked, glancing up. Yaone frowned, and Kougaiji made a small noise in the back of his throat.

"Do you all remember?" Yaone asked. "Your past lives, I mean." One by one, the four nodded, with varying degrees of confusion written in their faces. "That was why the two of you collapsed," Yaone explained, turning to Gojyo and Hakkai. "It's… painful… to suddenly be remembering something that has never happened. You won't remember all of it. You never will. The parts that you remember have no rhyme, no reason, they're in no particular order, and they have no particular meaning; you don't remember the things that made the biggest impression on your past selves before you remember the other things…" she trailed off her eyes glancing from one face to another to another, and back again. "Not necessarily…" she continued with her previous thought. "And you need to remember not to take the memories too seriously. I mean, there _yours _and you should acknowledge them, and sometimes they can save you from making some pretty dumb mistakes, but don't mistake the past for the future. You don't have to do everything the same... as… as you did… you can do things differently, _think _things differently, be a different person. No one's stopping you. And yes, I suppose there are some eerie coincidences that will make it seem like history is repeating itself, but… but it's _not_." Yaone was looking particularly at Hakkai as she said this, her voice beseeching. "The fact of the matter is, reincarnation can take you only so far," she continued, her voice back to normal. "Even if you were born with the same soul, if you had other circumstances you'd be a different _person_. If any of you had had different homes or different lives your personalities would be changed and you wouldn't be _you_. You'd be someone completely different… I guess you might still get the memories, but they wouldn't _stick_, because you wouldn't be able to relate to them. It would be like a person telling someone else about their dream… even though it's fascinating to them, the other person never really cares, because they've never really experienced it…" Yaone trailed off. "I don't think I'm making any sense," she said with an apologetic smile. "I just wanted to make sure that you wouldn't be afraid to do things differently. But don't be the afraid to do them the same, either," she said hurriedly, her eyes flitting from Hakkai to Gojyo to Sanzo to Goku and back gain.

"Yaone," Kougaiji said, pulling her back into her seat before she began to talk again. "That's enough. They get it, don't worry." She smiled at him, sadly.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "Some of the memories that you get are things you'd wish to forget."

"Goku," Kougaiji said suddenly, breaking the sudden and tense silence that had fallen. "You'd had those memories all along, didn't you?"

"Yeah, Goku answered. "My parents beat it into my head that they weren't real, but… I guess they were. I wonder what they'd say if they found out that they were real… but they're dead now, aren't they?" he asked. He instinctively looked to Sanzo for confirmation. At his nod he continued, "They were killed, I think. By the same person who stole the diadem."

Sanzo twitched. "Where'd you find it?" he asked Kougaiji. Kougaiji grimaced.

"Rosemont." He muttered. "It was in one of their technical labs." Sanzo sighed.

"I thought so. Eight years ago they took the diadem, and now they want the boy. I don't suppose you have any ideas about why, do you?" Kougaiji shook his head.

"I've got about as much to go on as you. I can assume what it had to do with; I can infer they wanted to use him as a weapon, but beyond that… I don't know."

"Will they come after you?" It was a very quiet voice, and not one that any of them would have associated with Goku, had he not been the one to have spoken. "Will they come after you for not taking me in when you were supposed to? What do they want me so much for, anyway?" Goku growled. "Why am I the one who needs to wear a special diadem to keep my sanity? How did I even get the thing at all? I've had it ever since I can remember, but it doesn't seem like the type of thing that would be easily attainable. Why am I the one who they're chasing after, endangering all my friends? Why am I the one…" but here he broke off, determined not to continue.

They all stared, most of them aware that they were seeing the breakdown of over five hundred years worth of worry and regret, all wrapped up into the laughter and the small speech, and now the silence. And not one of them knew how to respond, not even the caring Yaone, because none of them had ever experienced anything like what the boy, the youngest of them all, had. Suddenly, Sanzo stood up, taking them all aback. He walked over to Goku, muttered something very quietly, and then stalked down the hall to his room, quite obviously, to those who knew him best, embarrassed.

"What did he say?" Hakkai asked finally, staring after Sanzo, disbelief written in his face. Goku looked up and smiled.

"He said… 'because otherwise you wouldn't be you, dimwit,'" Goku knew that they were all giving him looks in various degrees in confusion, but he didn't bother to explain it to them. Trust Sanzo to be able to read into the tangled mess of words and pick out what he was really trying to say. Goku tilted his head up and looked at the ceiling, thinking.

"_Sanzo… why me?"_

"_Because otherwise you wouldn't be you."_

And, THAT, ladies and gentlemen, is why we need a sequel!

P.S.: The End

Ah, crud. I'm sorry, this chapter was DEFINITELY more Goku/Sanzo then I would've liked...

Okay, notice how there are a bunch of loose ends that lead nowhere? That's why I'm going to need a sequel. Actually, originally it was just going to be one big story, but I decided that it needed to be two separate stories for two reasons:

1) The pairings. This one has no pairings, and I wanted to give all of my readers who support other pairings a chance to back out now. The sequel WILL be: Sanzo/Goku and Gojyo/Hakkai (39 and 58), if you haven't all ready guessed from the story itself.

2) The writing style. This one is based more on characters and plot, and is a lot darker. The other one is going to have a lot more fluff. Loads of it, and it's probably going to center more around stuff that isn't quite as sinister, a.k.a., Goku going to school, the neighbours, random relatives popping up out of nowher, etc. Also, I had a MUCH BETTER idea what the plot was going to be in this one. I have a vague idea about the next one, but... nothing much yet.

Sorry, for the inconvenience, but the new story probably won't be up for a while. I'm guessing at least two weeks. I don't even have a NAME for it, yet. So, keep your eyespeeled for it, pretty pretty please? (wanna review while you're at it?)

And a Great Big Special Thanks To:

Milky Etoile: I'm glad you like the idea. I hope youweren't too disappointed, not too much ended up being explained. But, you seemed to have a very good grasp of what was going on anyway, so...

Timberwolf220: AHA! There is a reason for Lirin's emotional-ness! Sort of. It's a pretty bad reason, actually, but... I kind of thought it fit her.

Shakuhachi Jade: Actually, I do find it a little fishy that I haven't been flamed once, yet... hm... Well, I suppose since there's virtually no pairings there's really not too much for someone to flame me about. I hope that you liked the other chapters as much as you liked the first one!

Shakuhachi Jade: I'm glad that you liked my, ah... history note, at theend of chapter four. Iwasn't sure people would get it unless I put it in, because not only is it aslightly obscure bit of information, I also wrote it very... abstractly.

Shakuhachi Jade: IAM DETERMINED TO WRITE AN INDIVIDUAL NOTE FOR EACH AND EVERY REVIEW! Also, it's two o'clock in the morning by now, and I don't think I'd be able to handle it otherwise. . Thanks, I actually did have fun writing chapter seven. Even though it was a little bit like pulling teeth... but only a little...

Koto Juri: Yay! I hope you still like this (I hope you like the sequel, for that matter...)

endragh: Yup, I continued. . I'm glad that you like it.


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